In the Garden
by DaydreamScribe
Summary: "I wasn't loved by my aunt and uncle. They simply put up with my presence. Kind of like I was a cat that had wandered in and refused to leave so they put out some table scraps and threw some rags in the corner." Harry and Remus sit down to a midnight conversation in the garden of No. 12 Grimmauld Place. Oneshot. Post-OotP.


Disclaimer: I don't own, or profit from, anything written hereon.

Summary: Oneshot. "_I wasn't loved by my aunt and uncle. They simply put up with my presence. Kind of like I was a cat that had wandered in and refused to leave so they put out some table scraps and threw some rags in the corner._" Harry and Remus sit down to a midnight conversation in the garden of No. 12 Grimmauld Place. Post-OotP.

Warnings: Light character bashing

A/N: This was written in one sitting in about 2 hours with one potty break. I was reading a fic and just got to thinking about the difficulties Harry and Remus must have faced in their childhoods. I just thought and wrote. Enjoy!

**===== In the Garden ====================**

Harry could see the signs. Outwardly, Remus Lupin was a kind, gentle, positive person. He was affable and always willing to help. People liked him – except Severus, but that was not Remus' fault – and he saw no fault in anyone else. But Harry knew the truth. Remus Lupin was a sad, lonely man. He was never seen without a smile and always had a kind word to say, but Harry could see the behavior for what it was. Remus was starving for affection, for friendship, for any sort of kinship. It explained a lot. It explained why the quiet, intelligent eleven year old Remus had sought the friendship of the troublesome, sometimes downright callous, duo of James Potter and Sirius Black. They had expressed some interest in him that he had clung to for the remainder of their lives. Sure he didn't agree with their behavior, but they were his friends and if he lost them – he had nothing.

Harry could see this. He could see this because it was his story as well. He knew Ron was a selfish, greedy, immature brat. He knew Hermione was a rude, self-centered, know-it-all. But he clung to them, allowed them their overwhelming faults because he couldn't bear the thought of being alone. He'd spent ten years of his life being alone. The Dursleys barely acknowledged him beyond providing him with food and a place to sleep. His professors prior to Hogwarts all overlooked him, writing him off as troubled. The students in primary all avoided him, spreading rumors of him being troublesome and weird. He had nobody so he clung to the first people to show interest in him. Even if it wasn't in his best interest a lot of the time.

He didn't know Remus' entire story. He didn't know what had happened to his parents. He didn't know the events leading up to his being bitten. He didn't know a lot. But, he did know that he would do whatever he could to wipe the raw sorrow off the man's face as he sat alone in the garden of Number Twelve. He had to. He had to because if he could do that for the man, then maybe he could do it for himself.

He quietly stepped out into the garden, his slippers crunching the light layer of snow making enough noise to make Remus aware of his presence. Immediately a small smile was sent his way before even amber eyes landed on him.

"Harry? It's late." Harry lightly shrugged his shoulders and continued on until he was able to sit beside Remus. "It's cold too, let's go inside." Remus stood wanting to motivate Harry to return indoors. The teen remained seated.

"I'm fine." Remus blinked at him before returning to where he had been a few moments before. They sat in silence for a minute or two before the small smile slipped away from Remus' face. It didn't deteriorate to the misery from earlier, but it bordered on a frown.

"Did you want to talk?" The words hung in the air for a moment before Harry nodded. "About Sirius?" The name caused an automatic flinch from the teen. Sirius had been incredibly flawed, inexcusably so in many ways, but Harry had hung a lot of hope on the man. He was someone Harry had hoped with all his heart could fulfill his need for affection, love, and acknowledgement. He knew now that clinging to Sirius would have only ever ended in heartbreak on his end, but at the time it was like a dream come true.

"No. I want to talk about my life. And your life. And, maybe a bit about other people." Remus' eyebrows creased downward in confusion. Harry wasn't surprised. "I grew up unloved, unwanted, ignored, avoided, and at many times, detested." Sincere anger sparked in Remus' expression, but Harry continued speaking. "I wasn't loved by my aunt and uncle. They simply put up with my presence. Kind of like I was a cat that had wandered in and refused to leave so they put out some table scraps and threw some rags in the corner." Harry shook his head. "Actually, I think they would have treated a stray cat a bit more kindly than they did me. In any event, I was a very lonely child." He paused and shook his head. "Actually, no, I am a very lonely child. Even now, sixteen years old, having battled and lost, at heart I'm nothing more than a very sad, very lonely child."

"Harry…" Remus started, floundering a bit. He wanted to say something, but the thoughts were getting mixed up in his head. Harry understood.

"I want to talk about this – specifically – I wanted to tell you this because…I know we are very alike." Remus seemed to want to disagree, but Harry preempted him. "Tell me about your childhood."

"My childhood…?" Remus was extremely hesitant and Harry felt a bit desperate. He'd laid a lot of himself out for the man, he wasn't sure if he could recover if he ran away or outright refused the subject. In an effort to keep him there, Harry reached out and gripped the closest hand. Remus couldn't run away if he was holding on.

"Did you live with your parents?" Harry pressed on, letting the man know he wasn't relenting.

Remus looked down at their joined hands before looking up at the teen beside him. Harry's eyes – Lily's eyes – were focused on him, open and expressive. He didn't understand where this conversation was going or really what it was about. His childhood? Where to begin? He thought on the last inquiry. His parents.

"My father was a muggleborn and my mother was a half-blood. We lived on the outskirts of this wizarding village at the edge of the Lakes in Cumbria. It was a beautiful area. My mother had grown up there and loved it. My father was originally from Liverpool so he was not too keen on it all, but he loved my mum so he put up with it. Eventually he began to like it…until…"

"How old were you?" The context was unnecessary as Remus was positive he knew what Harry was asking. It wasn't the first time someone had asked him, but for some reason it felt different telling the teenager. Maybe it was because he knew Harry did not fear him, and would not pity him.

"I was seven, about to turn eight in a few weeks. Werewolves are well-known creatures, but actually very rare. Unless there had been an incident at some point in the past, nobody worried about full moons because chances of encountering a werewolf were and are still pretty small. So my mum saw no issue with letting me walk home from my grandmother's house a little after dark. I had done it many times in the past and knew all the roads to follow. When I first heard the growling I thought it was the neighbor's dog. I hadn't even gotten a good look at the wolf when it snatched me by the leg and dragged me down the road. All the thrashing knocked me out and when I woke up… I was different. Or at least everyone treated me different."

"How?"

"It…it was a lot like you described earlier. My father immediately grew detached. It took a few months of watching me leave claw marks on the cellar door before the affection died in my mother's eyes. She never referred to me as her son again." Remus was surprised at the words he was speaking freely. Many were thoughts he had kept a tight hold on in his head because he didn't want to risk becoming vulnerable to someone else. He had been vulnerable when his own father didn't acknowledge his 8th birthday. He had been vulnerable when his mother spanked him for destroying the shelf of her preserves whilst he was turned. He had been vulnerable when his friends ran away from him as if he had the plague. Nothing good happened when he was vulnerable. "I no longer had friends. I no longer was allowed in school. I stayed home and read out of my parent's libraries."

"I…I didn't know how to read properly until I was six…nearly seven." Remus eyebrows shot up. It had been an unexpected admission, but he understood. Harry was trying to show that he wasn't the only one to be vulnerable in the conversation. "I barely even knew my alphabets…my primary professors thought I was slow. That I had a developmental issue." Remus turned his hand and squeezed the one that held his. Harry's face was lowered and burning red. He was ashamed. "That's one reason my handwriting is so dreadful. Nobody wanted to take on the responsibility of teaching the slow child how to do things proper."

"You know that is your aunt and uncle's fault right? Not yours?" Remus couldn't help, but try and reassure the teen.

"I know that now, but until Hogwarts I really thought I was very stupid. My relatives didn't mind reinforcing that belief either." Harry fought to not laugh off the very real pain his situation growing up had caused him. He laughed it off so often. When Hermione complained that his essays were troll-worthy. Or when Ron whined about him being no fun to play at chess. Or when a professor berated him for his chicken scratch. He just laughed it off and hid away the pain the comments caused. They didn't understand. Even his two best friends who were at least somewhat aware of his living situation didn't seem to realize that nobody could be raised in that environment and come out unscathed. But their ignorance was just one more flaw to overlook. One more thing to brush aside in favor of vying for their attention.

"I wish I was there for you, Harry. I wish so badly that I could have taken you and raised you the way you deserved." Harry smiled at the emotion that saturated that statement. He was certain that if Remus could he would turn back time to that moment Dumbledore laid him on the Dursley's doorstep. He would scoop him up and hide him away from the cruelty of the world.

"I wish the same, Remus. That way we would have had each other. Neither of us would have been…this way… ravaged by the world, but ever striving for its acceptance." He shifted so he was leaning gently onto Remus. Bicep to bicep. Shoulder to shoulder. "Make it up to me, Remus." His words were quiet, but he knew they were heard as the hand squeezed tightly, almost desperately. "Don't leave me alone again, okay?"

"I won't. I swear it." Harry smiled. A sincere smile. Not one to placate a nosy bookworm. Not one to settle a jealous brat. Not one to appease suspicious peers.

"I won't either." Remus smiled in return. For the first time ever he didn't feel like he was being fed words the other person thought he wanted to hear. For the first time he believed that he could be the one to rely on someone else. For the first time he foresaw a future where he wasn't alone. "I think my bum froze and broke off." Harry stated with a small frown. Remus let out a bark of laughter at the sudden shift in conversation. He stood, still holding the smaller hand in his.

"Let's go in then before your toes do the same." The teen was smiling, his eyes narrowed in mirth.

"Will you make me some tea?" Remus pulled the young wizard up and they began shuffling towards the back door.

"No, it's far too late for tea. You'll be up all night. How about some warm pumpkin juice?" Remus laughter filled the garden once more as the teen's face scrunched up in disgust.

"That sounds ghastly."

"No, I swear…"

The duo disappeared into the dreary, dark obelisk that was Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Though - both would agree the bleakness seemed to have receded somewhat while they were in the garden. Harry dared to think that if that trend continued, a few more midnight conversations would have the ancestral home appear downright cheerful.

Well, except for the elf heads. He didn't think glitter and fairy lights could make those things seem pleasant.

====== End ==========================

A/N: Let me know what you think. Thank you for reading!


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